Speak
by Let's Explode
Summary: Matt sighs. "What do you want me to say, Mello?"


_A/N: Uh... I don't know... Maybe Matt/Mello? Maybe it'll look like Yaoi if you squint. Tell me what you think. :)  


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_

_Speak_

_You'll never know the way  
it tears me up inside to see you.  
I wish that I could tell you something  
__To take it all away.  
- Save you, _Simple Plan

Mello does not know what to think.

He stares at his reflection, taking in every detail of his wounded state. Bandages are wrapped neatly around his head and the left side of his face, his arm and his chest. Mello wonders at the damage they hide. There are fading bruises and small cuts that scatter across the stretch of his exposed skin, but they will disappear eventually. Completely temporary, but not the burns. They will leave scars and mar him and paint him ugly. Mello knows enough to prepare himself for the worst.

The worst has a tendency to happen, when it concerns him.

"Well?" Mello sees Matt's reflection in the mirror. The younger boy is leaning against the doorway, a single hand raised to retrieve the cigarette from between his lips. As the redhead exhales, smoke escapes his mouth, curling up in the stale air- Mello momentarily distracts himself with it. Matt makes a little scoffing sound. "You going to remove those things or what?"

Through the mirror, Mello shoots him a one-eyed glare. Matt, having grown up with Mello, is not impressed, nor is he perturbed in the least. It rolls off his shoulders like raindrops on a smooth window pane. Matt inclines his head slightly, the screen of his goggles reflecting the overhead lamp brightly. "Or are you just afraid?"

Mello stiffens at the accusation, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits because Matt's words are well founded. Matt reads him so easily, and he _hates_ it, especially because he cannot do the same for Matt. Mello is afraid, but of what? There is nothing to fear. Nothing to face but himself. There is _nothing_ to fear, Matt reminds him of this. So Mello lies. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Great," Matt says in a bland tone, neither one of interest nor disinterest. He is simply there. "Now take off those things before I get pissed."

"You don't tell me what to do," the blond mutters under his breath. Still, he does as he is told; using his good arm to pull away the bandages over his face first. The layers of wraps slowly thin, little by little revealing a few more centimeters of skin. His heart is pumping so loudly, so erratically, Mello is dreading the sight of himself. Then finally-

The bandages fall onto the bathroom floor.

And he sees. The scar stretches over his left eye -still fully functional, to his relief-, almost taking up the entire left side of his face. The lines are jagged, like fire had eaten and licked at his face so greedily. The surface of his scar is rough and uneven; Mello does not even want to touch the sensitive skin. It is red and angry and he thinks it is absolutely hideous.

It is suddenly so quiet in here, so still. The room is colder, even. Mello cannot even hear the sound of his own breathing, if he is breathing at all. He forces himself to tear his eyes away, instead looking to Matt, mouth open, but his mouth is too dry for words.

Minutes pass too slow for Mello's liking. By now, Mello is shaking, hands balling into fists because he does not know what to do with them. Matt is _still_ standing there, lighting another cigarette like he hasn't a care in the world. Mello is still _here_, still waiting for something to distract him. Anything. Then, Mello croaks out, "Say something."

Taking another drag of his cigarette, Matt sighs. "What do you want me to say, Mello?"

The blond shakes his head, brow furrowing in absolute frustration. "I.. I don't know!" Mello bites out, gritting his teeth at the confession. Mello _always_ knows. This shouldn't be any different, should it? "Just say anything. Matt-"

"There's nothing to say, Mels," he says, finishing the cigarette quickly and he crushes the butt against the tiled wall. "Stop being so melodramatic. You're _alive, _aren't you_?_"

Mello spins on his heels, wanting to _scream_ at his best friend right at his face. He stalks towards Matt, bare feet slapping against the too cold floor loudly. "I've got half my _face_ burnt off, Matt! You can't tell me I can't react like this. You can't tell me what to think. You can't tell me you don't _care_. You don't know what _this _is like!"

"I know, but I never said any of that," Matt simply shrugs. "I just said-"

"I _know_ what you said!" Mello seethes. "I just want-"

"Empathy? Pity?" the redhead's lips twitch into a tiny smirk. "You were half dead when I found you, Mels. Your body was crushed under stone. You were black and blue and there was blood all over you. You didn't see yourself there, Mello. Compared to the sight of you that night, this is nothing."

Mello tries to search Matt's eyes, and he sees no hint of anything. _Nothing_, because there is a veil of tinted gold that hides everything away. Mello cannot tell what is going through the gamer's mind, and he loathes it. Matt can't play this game with him, hiding behind goggles just to close himself away from everything. Mello won't _let_ him.

Before Matt can even blink, Mello has already pulled the eyewear off of him. Matt tries to turn away, but Mello grabs at his arm. "Matt," his voice is stern, grip tightening. "Turn around."

Matt jerks his arm back, as if recoiling from Mello's touch, but he faces Mello anyway.

And Mello decides to just forget what he wants to say.

Dark blue orbs stare right into his own pair of emerald green, penetrating, searching. What takes Mello off guard is that Matt's gaze isn't as cold as he first thought they would be. No. Instead, there are tears streaming freely from Matt's wide eyes, cascading down his cheeks and he is still insistent on wearing a sad smile. "What am I supposed to say, Mello?Tell me. What can I say to you?"

Hearing Matt's broken tone, Mello's rage dwindles down to nothing. He hears him, that quiet devastation, that misery. This is Matt's way of telling him how useless he feels, being unable to take any of this away. Mello finds that he does not know how to answer him anymore. Not when he is looking at him like that...

"Understand me," Matt whispers. "Nothing I say will change anything."

_Nevermind, _he wants to say, but he thinks Matt hears him already. Mello shuts his eyes tight, saying, "I'm alive."

He thinks Matt has said all he needs to say.

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